


desk work

by palmcitrus



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Begging, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, F/F, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rosie tops god bless, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, background archive flirting, reader’s choice who it is (it’s all of them)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26009779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palmcitrus/pseuds/palmcitrus
Summary: “Hey, it’s not like reception is exactly thrilling,” Rosie says. “and if the way I pass the time involves imagining getting certain people bent over my paperwork, it’s perfectly reasonable to follow through with that when the opportunity presents itself.”“You’re a madwoman.”“Oh, come on. It was before anyone else got here and there’s no cameras. You’re telling me it’s not hot?”Sasha considers it. The image of Rosie, whispering into someone’s shoulder, her firm hand working them over, their whines and gasps echoing throughout the dark and empty Institute, is...“It’s—yeah,” she says eloquently. “It’s hot.”Rosie smiles.
Relationships: Sasha James/Rosie
Comments: 18
Kudos: 131





	desk work

Sasha manages to hold out until nearly three in the afternoon before she finally decides it’s time for a break. She pushes out of her chair and leaves with some quick excuse about grabbing a snack, and shuts the door behind her firmly. 

Wandering through the Institute’s halls is a better way to blow off steam than snapping at her coworkers, she decides, and besides, she knows it’s not really their fault. She’d just woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning, and their ridiculousness was usually easy enough to ignore but today it was _really_ not helping her headache. She finds herself in the lobby.

“Hey,” a voice says to her left. Sasha turns. 

Rosie is sitting at reception, her head propped in hand. 

“Hi,” Sasha says. “Sorry to bother you, just felt like taking a break.”

“You’re fine,” she replies, twirling a pen between her fingers. “What’s up?”

Sasha sighs and walks over. She very dramatically leans over the desk. “When Jon transferred me to the archives he should have warned me about how occasionally unbearable it would be.”

Rosie makes a noise of understanding. “Hey, it’s still a step up from artifact storage,” she offers. “I mean, pay-wise. And probably safety-wise, if you believe all the rumors about haunted items.”

“Yeah, well, at least there were other women in artifact storage,” Sasha groans. “And at least my coworkers weren’t three seconds away from snogging right in front of me. Swear to God I’m going to come back from lunch one day and find them banging on my desk.”

“Oh, God, that bad?” Rosie says, her expression a combination of obligatory sympathy and delight at the gossip. “I didn’t realize they were so…”

“Shameless? Yeah. Never seen someone ask for reports with that much sexual tension in my life, it’s driving me crazy.”

Rosie laughs. It’s a nice laugh, Sasha thinks, high and tinkly, and she can already feel herself calming down a bit. 

Sasha has known Rosie since she first started here, back when she was working in artifact storage. The two had hit it off pretty quickly, and although Sasha’s never seen her outside of work or the occasional group pub night, she is glad to be friends with her. She wasn’t lying when she said that it was exhausting being down in the archives sometimes, no matter how much she does enjoy her job, and it’s nice to have someone at work to hang out with when the air down there starts to feel a bit stifling. 

All that aside, ever since they first met on Sasha’s first day, Rosie has also been just genuinely quite fun to talk to, all witty and dry and unexpectedly blunt. And, admittedly, fairly easy on the eyes, too—not that Sasha’s planning to say that. Embarrassing how much she’s slowly come to appreciate pencil skirts, of all things. 

Rosie leans back in her rolling chair. “Ah, office romance. Such a terrible joy to watch.” 

Sasha snorts. Rosie regards her for a second. 

“Hey,” she says, her eyes glinting with amusement, “Have you ever fucked anyone at the Institute?” 

Sasha laughs a bit. “Hah, you know what, yeah, actually. Tim and I had a very ill-advised night a few months back. I mean, it was good and all, but going home with your best friend while you’re both drunk, horny, and fresh off breakups isn’t exactly a sustainable relationship model. Also, you can’t tell anyone this.”

Rosie laughs. “Well, pinky promise I won’t, but that’s not what I meant,” she says. “I mean, have you ever fucked anyone _at the Institute.”_

Sasha freezes. “Wh—have I— _here?”_ she splutters. “Like, on company grounds?”

“Sure.”

“No! Have you?”

Rosie just grins up at her. She does a very self-satisfied shrug. 

“Oh my God,” Sasha says, leaning in towards her. “Who?”

“I would think a more relevant question might be _where,”_ Rosie says, and very meaningfully traces a finger along the corner of her desk.

Sasha recoils. She gapes, eyes flicking between that slow finger and Rosie’s smug face. “No.”

Rosie repeats that same shrug. 

“But you _work_ on this desk, why…”

“Hey, it’s not like reception is exactly thrilling,” she says. “and if the way I pass the time involves imagining getting certain people bent over my paperwork, it’s perfectly reasonable to follow through with that when the opportunity presents itself.”

“You’re a madwoman.”

“Oh, come on. It was before anyone else got here and there’s no cameras. You’re telling me it’s not hot?”

Sasha considers it. The image of Rosie, whispering into someone’s shoulder, her firm hand working them over, their whines and gasps echoing throughout the dark and empty Institute, is...

“It’s—yeah,” she says eloquently. “It’s hot.”

Rosie smiles. “I thought you might think so,” she says. 

Before Sasha can think of how to respond to that, the phone rings. Rosie swivels in her chair and clicks her pen decisively. “You’d better get back down to the archives. Make sure some actual work gets done around all the flirting, eh?”

Sasha heads back down with a faint blush on her cheeks. 

  
  


Later that night, she gets a text. 

Rosie🌹: Hey that Benjamin guy from Luton called back earlier, said he was going to come give a follow-up next week. Forgot to tell Jon

Rosie🌹: Also, unrelated but I am going to be at work an hour early tomorrow

Rosie🌹: Important desk work to do

Sasha stares down at her phone for a second. Her thumbs hover over the keyboard. 

Sasha: desk work huh? sounds boring

Rosie🌹: Just thought you might want to know

Sasha lets out a breath, her stomach fluttering a bit with the thrill of anticipation, and sets her alarm an hour earlier. 

  
  


The Institute is, in fact, both very dark and very empty at this hour. The front doors are even still locked—she goes around the side entrance by the break room, assuming that’s how Rosie came in. 

Rosie is sitting at her desk, lit only by one tiny desk lamp. She looks up when she hears Sasha’s footsteps approaching, and smiles in a way that says she is not surprised at all to see her. She’s twirling that pen in her fingers again.

“Oh, good morning, Sasha,” she says. “What a surprise. What could you possibly be doing here at this hour?”

Sasha smiles back. “Oh, I must have made a mistake,” she replies. “I suppose my alarm went off early, I didn’t even notice.”

“Wow, what a shame,” Rosie says. “What are you going to do to pass the time?”

Sasha’s grin widens, but she schools it into something more casual. She wanders around the desk and leans back against it, her thigh bumping the armrest of Rosie’s chair. “You know, I was going to say I could just watch you do your work,” she says, tracing her fingers along the desk, “but I don’t actually see any work here.”

“Maybe I had less to do than I thought,” Rosie says. “Oh, well. Guess we’ll have to think of something else?”

Sasha is struck by how sharp her eyes are, right then, watching her like she’s prey. Despite the fact that she’s physically above her Sasha suddenly feels absolutely pinned in place. 

“I’m sure you have ideas,” Sasha says. 

Rosie sets the pen down. She slides her hand over to Sasha’s, wrapping her hand around her wrist. Sasha only has time for one tiny inhale before Rosie pulls her forward into a kiss. 

Leaning forward like this isn’t remarkably comfortable, but Sasha doesn’t really care, not when Rosie’s free hand is landing on the back of her neck and her mouth is so demanding and warm and good. She doesn’t make her wait long, anyway—when she stands up, not breaking the kiss, Sasha’s thrilled at the reminder that Rosie is just slightly taller than she is. 

Rosie releases her wrist, sliding her hand up her arm until both hands are on the sides of Sasha’s neck, allowing her to move her where she wants her. Sasha allows it, lets her head be tilted at whatever angle Rosie wants, and moans lowly when their tongues press together. 

Sasha’s hands land on Rosie’s sides and she pulls her closer until their bodies are flush against each other. It’s all she can do not to squirm, already eager for one of Rosie’s thighs to be pressed between her legs. 

They pull apart briefly. “What if someone comes in,” Sasha whispers. 

Rosie’s voice is confident, not quieted at all. “They won’t,” she says. “Earliest person arrives like clockwork forty minutes from now. But even if they do, then, well. Lucky them.”

Rosie’s hands move down, slow past the collar of her blouse, tracing over her collarbones and then lower to the buttons. She pops one out and then pauses, waiting to see if Sasha will protest. 

Instead, Sasha just moves her hands down to Rosie’s ass and squeezes. 

The resulting quiet intake of breath gives her another thrill. Rosie pushes harder against Sasha until she’s forced up onto the desk, legs parted where she stands between them. 

Rosie kisses down Sasha’s chest as she unbuttons her blouse. Her tongue leaves a cool wet trail down her front that raises goosebumps on Sasha’s skin. 

“Rosie,” Sasha breathes, and reaches up to finish unbuttoning the last few buttons. 

Or at least, she tries. Rosie grabs her wrists again and pulls them back to her sides. “Ah ah,” she says. “That’s my job. You want to help, ask.”

The urge to grind up on something flashes strong and urgent as heat pools between Sasha’s legs. “Alright,” she manages, and Rosie smiles. 

“Good,” she replies, and pushes Sasha’s blouse off her shoulders. 

The sudden feeling of cool air against her bare skin is a sharp reminder of how public a space they’re in. She shivers. 

“Yours too,” Sasha says, gesturing to Rosie’s top. “Can I…”

Rosie hums noncommittally, and before Sasha gets the chance to ask for clarification, Rosie leans forward and lands her mouth on her neck. She gasps a bit at the sensation of Rosie’s teeth, just barely there, and instinctively one hand shoots up to push at her shoulder. 

“Don’t—marks—nothing visible,” she says, and Rosie’s eyes flick up to her. 

“Of course,” she says. “Got to be professional, after all.”

With that, she ducks her head again, and bites down on a spot on Sasha’s chest. Sasha moans.

Without breaking away, Rosie reaches around and undoes the clasp of Sasha’s bra. She pulls away just long enough to discard it to the side before taking a nipple in her mouth. 

Sasha is finding it increasingly difficult to hold back the sounds bubbling up in her throat. The instinct to be quiet makes her bite her lip, which mostly works until Rosie decides to move her wicked mouth down to a sensitive spot just below Sasha’s breast. 

“ _Rosie,”_ she whines loudly, then claps one hand over her mouth. 

Rosie immediately stops her ministrations and, once again, grabs Sasha by the wrist. She pulls her hand down and firmly plants it back next to her on the desk. 

“Keep your hands here,” she instructs, “and don’t move them unless I say you can. Can you do that for me?”

Sasha nods, feeling a flush of heat across her skin. Rosie quirks an eyebrow, silently confirming that everything’s still good, and Sasha responds with a tiny roll of her hips. She squares her shoulders back, pushing her chest out. 

Rosie grins at the gesture and returns back to kissing and sucking her way down Sasha’s torso. Sasha’s whines get louder now that she can’t stifle them, and she’s finding that she cares less and less. 

By the time Rosie reaches her stomach Sasha is so turned on it almost aches. Rosie finishes leaving a dark mark on the soft part of her hip, then leans back, looking at Sasha with hungry, almost awed eyes. 

“You’re a sight,” she says, her hands roaming her skin. Without permission to touch Rosie’s body like she so badly wants to, all Sasha can do is sit and let herself be caressed as Rosie takes her time, drinks her fill, pressing her thumb into some of the bruises she’s left. Her fingers stroke through her hair, brush down her neck, trace down her sides and then back around to the front. She takes a moment to cup Sasha’s breasts, then tweaks both hard nipples and draws a whimper out of her. 

Eventually, Rosie sits back fully on her chair. She’s level with Sasha’s hips, now, and her face between her spread legs is a sight that has Sasha subconsciously inching forward in anticipation. 

Rosie places both hands on Sasha’s thighs. She starts to slide them up, towards her skirt, and when Sasha bites back a noise she glances up at her. 

“You seem quite eager,” she says, casually, as if she’s just noticed Sasha is sitting topless and panting in front of her. She slides her hands back down. 

Sasha whines a little. “What gave you that impression,” she says, trying to sound composed. 

Rosie hums. “Oh, I don’t know. Just a hunch, really.”

Her hands move back up again, further this time, although still infuriatingly slow. Sasha feels like she’s burning with impatience as Rosie repeats the action, down and then up again, a little closer to the hem of Sasha’s skirt each time but still never quite going far enough. 

Finally, after a few excruciating minutes, Rosie slides her hands up, up, past her skirt until she reaches the lace of her underwear. She hooks her fingers around the sides, and pauses. 

“Please,” Sasha begs.

Rosie pulls them down, eyes never leaving Sasha as she tosses them aside with the rest of her clothes. Fortunately, she doesn’t make Sasha ask again before flipping her skirt up, leaving her exposed and open, and Sasha barely has time to feel embarrassed about Rosie’s look of blatant—well— _lust_ before she hikes her legs over her shoulders and tugs her forward on the desk. 

“Alright?” Rosie says, catching her eye. 

“Yes, yes, Rosie, please— _ahh_ —”

Rosie dips her head forward and, without preamble, buries her face in Sasha’s pussy. They both let out a moan at the same time, though Sasha’s is noticeably higher. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” she says, and grips the edge of the desk. 

Rosie’s tongue is just as talented and sharp as it is in conversation, as it turns out, taking turns between long, flat licks and quick circles with the tip. Sasha groans when she ducks lower and pushes her tongue into her. 

“You’re so wet,” Rosie murmurs. 

“I—I was thinking about this all night,” Sasha pants. “Since you brought it up, I— _nnh_. Been wet since I woke up.”

“Fuck, Sasha,” Rosie says, her voice finally tipping into something more hoarse. She leans back in, redoubling her efforts, and Sasha’s thighs tighten around her head with a sound that comes embarrassingly close to a squeak. 

When Rosie pulls her tongue out of Sasha’s hole and moves up to suck on her clit, her hips buck forward of their own accord, held in place only by Rosie’s firm grip. 

“God, fuck, Rosie, don’t stop,” she gasps, her voice high and desperate. “I’m close, I—”

Rosie pulls away. Sasha nearly sobs.

“Rosie, God, come on...”

She ducks back down to suck a hickey onto her thigh. “You look so good like this,” she hums. “Couldn’t possibly cut it short.”

“Rosie,” she groans, but she just moves to another spot, sucks harder. 

All Sasha can do is whimper. She whines again when Rosie eventually goes back to eating her out. 

Once again, her mouth is warm and skilled, and it’s not long before she brings Sasha back to the edge. She doesn’t say anything this time, but Rosie must notice in the way her thighs tense, or the way her moans climb higher, because she pulls away again. 

“No, no, Rosie, please—I want...I want…” Sasha whines. Her knuckles are white on the desk.

“You’ll get it, baby,” Rosie purrs. “Ask me for it.”

Sasha’s breath is shaky. “Please, let me come,” she says. She hooks her ankles behind Rosie’s back.

“Mmmm, I don’t know,” Rosie replies. Her face is quirked in faux-thoughtfulness, even as she begins to press kisses to the inside of her thighs, but there is an unmistakable assertive look in her gaze.

“Please, please,” Sasha begs. “I wanna come, I want you to make me come...please.”

“Louder,” Rosie says.

Sasha flushes. “Please, Rosie,” she says, raising her voice slightly.

Rosie bites down. “Louder.”

“Please!” Sasha gasps, and her voice echoes through the room. “ _Rosie,_ Rosie—”

She can feel Rosie grin against her. “That’s better.”

This time, it takes no more than a few seconds before Sasha is gasping in the same way again, and with a few hard, quick passes of Rosie’s tongue against her clit Sasha is coming. 

“Rosie, fuck, fuck, fuck— _ah,_ ” she cries, shuddering, and the string of moans that follows is unobstructedly loud. 

Rosie continues until Sasha squeaks a little with overstimulation. She wipes her mouth as she pulls away, then reaches up to grab Sasha’s hand, laying a few tiny kisses on it. It’s unexpectedly sweet. 

Sasha makes a noise and pulls her up into a kiss. Rosie smiles against her mouth, and they get lost in just that for a while, slow and easy. 

Predictably, though, some indiscernible amount of time later, Rosie can feel herself winding back up again, already itching for more. She slides her hands down Rosie’s sides to where her shirt is tucked in and tugs it free. 

Rosie thankfully allows it. When Sasha slides her hands underneath her shirt over her skin she inhales a little, arching into the touch, and her hand that’s holding Sasha’s waist squeezes. Sasha moans quietly in response and rolls her hips. 

“What, you want more? Really?” Rosie laughs, and Sasha pulls back and tilts her head. 

“I believe,” she says, nudging Rosie back enough to slide off the desk, “that you said your specific fantasy was getting someone bent over, is that right?”

And she turns, pushes a pencil cup to the side, and leans over the desk. She grins up at Rosie over her shoulder. 

Her face is surprised, then amused, then hungry. She laughs. “You are a funny one, miss James.”

“I have a few other redeeming qualities that might be more relevant at the moment.”

“Oh, I’ll bet.”

Rosie’s hands slide up the backs of her thighs, slide over her ass to let her fingernails drag lightly up her spine. Sasha shivers, a tiny sound escaping her, and drops her head. 

“Gotta say,” Rosie says. “You do look especially good like this.”

“Living up to the fantasy?” Sasha breathes.

Rosie hums. “Quite,” she says. “Though the skirt is a nice addition to what I’d imagined.”

“You imagined me, specifically?”

Rosie’s body is suddenly leaned completely over Sasha’s, her weight pressed against her back. “Can you blame me?” she whispers into her ear. “You’re a fucking bombshell, baby.”

Sasha moans, her face heating up at the praise, and before she can embarrass herself by saying thanks Rosie is sinking two fingers into her. 

Any hope of silencing herself is long gone by now. The groans, the rocking of the desk, even the faint but mortifying wet sounds are turning her on, contrasted with the vast early-morning silence of the Institute. 

She feels full with just two fingers, but when Rosie pushes a third in, she pushes back, her body eager for more. 

“This one’s not gonna take long, is it?” Rosie asks, still close to her. With her free hand, she brushes some of Sasha’s hair off of her sweaty forehead. “You seem close already.”

“Yeah,” Sasha whines. “Please don’t stop.”

Rosie chuckles. “I’ve teased you enough, don’t worry.”

Her hand speeds up, pounding into Sasha relentlessly, and when Rosie quirks her fingers into a sensitive spot, her second orgasm hits suddenly. She twitches through it, choking out a few gasps, and then her muscles collapse onto the desk. 

Rosie kisses the back of her neck and pulls her fingers out. Sasha shivers again, and Rosie continues to pepper kisses across her shoulders while she catches her breath. 

“Good?” she asks, and Sasha laughs.

“Well, you’ve just made me come twice before the sun’s even finished coming up, so yeah, I’d say so,” she says, pushing herself up. She winces. “God, I’m going to be feeling that.”

Rosie looks inordinately smug. “Good.”

Sasha turns around and eyes her. “Do you want me to—?”

Rosie waves her away. “Nah,” she says. “Getting you like that was plenty enough for me, at least for now. Besides, I’d estimate you’ve got—” she checks her phone— “four minutes until the front doors open.”

“Shit,” Sasha says, and scrambles for her clothes. 

Sure enough, exactly four minutes and sixteen seconds later, the lock clicks and the front doors swing open. In steps—

“Jon?” Sasha blurts out, and he squints up at her. 

“Oh, good morning, Sasha,” he says. “Surprised to see you here so early.”

She wonders why on earth Jon has a key to the Institute. “Yes, well,” she flounders. “Uh. Thought I’d get a head start. Lots of desk work, and all that.” Rosie muffles a snort behind her. 

“Right,” he says. “Morning to you, too, Rosie.”

The two of them watch as he heads towards the archives. Sasha sighs and straightens up. “Well, better get to work, I suppose.”

“Wait,” Rosie says, and then pulls Sasha in by the collar for a brief kiss. She smooths her blouse, and grins. “Alright, there. Have a productive day, Sasha.”

Sasha grins back. “You too, Rosie,” she says, and heads after Jon. 

When Tim arrives fifteen minutes later than everyone else, he gives her a wary once-over. “You seem to be in a better mood than yesterday.”

She just hums. “Stress relief,” she says vaguely, and snickers when he rolls his eyes.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> back with more f/f porn lmao! this time much more niche. comment and kudos if u enjoyed!💕


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